


The Five Stark Children Who Are Morning People (And The One Who Most Certainly Isn't)

by SxnsaStark



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SxnsaStark/pseuds/SxnsaStark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Stark children tackle the morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Five Stark Children Who Are Morning People (And The One Who Most Certainly Isn't)

1\. Sansa

Sansa reckons that early morning is the best time for art. There’s just so many options. She can paint the dew drops glistening upon their balcony plants. She can use her pastels to recreate the ever glorious sunset (Arya would definitely make some crass comment about her sister being a total sap if she saw how Sansa watches the sunrise with such awe). Or best of all she can sketch a still slumbering Margaery. Margaery looks ridiculously perfect in her sleep. Her brown curls fan around her delicately as if they were specially arranged. Her closed eyelids and soft expression give her an air of innocence and sweetness. Sansa loves how much detail she can pay to Margaery whilst her girlfriend is asleep; the curves of her eyelashes, her unblemished skin and soft jawline, her pale neck ringed with a mark of love bites, markings Sansa is undeniably proud of.

She is nearly done a quick black and white portrait of Margaery when she accidentally drops her pencil which clatters towards the floor, “Shit,” she whispers in annoyance. Sansa isn’t usually one to swear, but she hates ruining moments like that. But it’s too late because the damage is done and Margaery is waking up.

"Morning," she says sleepily, dragging Sansa towards her for a kiss. Sansa intends it to only be a soft peck so she can get back to work, but with Margaery, nothing is ever short-lasting. The kiss is languid and deep, and sheer bliss. Margaery, now seemingly fully awake, pulls Sansa even closer to drag the kiss out for longer. She nips at Sansa’s neck, drawing a shuddering groan of pleasure from the redhead.

"Margaery - oh _Margaery_  not now, it’s six in the morning, we’ll wake Renly and Loras up and - oh Margaery oh my god!"

Margaery draws away laughing. “Oh well. It would serve them right. I was up until all hours last night hearing them fuck.”

"You were up to all hours last night because you were fucking me," Sansa points out mockingly primly, attempting to keep a straight face when saying the word fuck.

Margaery gives a delighted giggle and buries her head in the nook of Sansa’s neck. “Oh you’re so endearing when you curse, it’s adorable!”

Sansa giggles and runs a hand absently through Margaery’s cascade of curls. She’s content to stay like that forever until she hears a stomach growling. Margaery breaks away and snorts with laughter.

“Whoops sorry. Guilty.”

Sansa nuzzles her softly. “You wait here. I’ll get us some food.”

Margaery grins and complies, leaning back into their shared bed with a sigh of content.

Sansa busies herself in the kitchen. She manages to remember the last place she hid her Lucky Charms - she has to hide them or Loras will eat them on her - and sloshes them into two bowls along with milk. When she comes back into the room Margaery is snuggled under the covers, eyes shut. Sansa is bemused as to how on earth someone manages to fall asleep that quickly but Margaery looks so perfect that she doesn’t question it.

"Hey sleepy," she says, kissing Margaery’s forehead. Margaery opens her bleary eyes and yawns.

“Oh come on, give me a break, you’re the morning person, not me.”

Sansa smirks lightly, and places the cereal on the bedside table. “Come on, up and at ‘em,’right?”

Margaery sighs. She reaches over to take her cereal bowl but her hand finds something else; Sansa’s unfinished portrait.

"Oh Sansa!" Margaery exclaims with delight.

Sansa reddens. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “You just looked so beautiful, I couldn't help myself."

Margaery positively coos. “It’s amazing. You’re so talented, you know that?”

Sansa smiles shyly. “Thank you,” she says warily. “That, uh, that means a lot.”

Margaery rubs the sleep out of her eyes.

“Tell you what. We can take this cereal out the balcony and you can sketch the sunrise after you finish doing me. Well not literally doing me. Although you're quite welcome to that anyhow. Sound good?”

Sansa gives a squel. “Oh yes, Margaery!”

"You’re such a sap," Margaery says fondly.

Sansa truly loves the mornings.

 

 

2\. Jon

Jon awakes to the sound of his girlfriend mumbling about something or the other in her sleep. He vaguely wonders when his life became a romantic comedy. It’s early morning, the sun has just risen. To his right Ygritte is snuggling up to him. She’d never admit it, but she is a total cuddler. Her red curls are even more of a mess than usual, and her face is almost peaceful. Ironic, considering peace is usually the last word that comes to mind when he thinks of Ygritte.

Jon doesn't bother to get dressed properly before going downstairs to fetch his mail, figuring there won’t be any other residents of their apartment complex awake at this time. As per usual, he was wrong. Val and Gilly are both downstairs fetching their mail, chatting amiably. Jon has no qualms with Gilly seeing him in his boxers and t-shirt, she had been dating his friend Sam for years now and Jon is well aware that she has seen him in a worse state. Gilly had always tended to be the sane one among the group when they went out drinking. Val however is a completely different story. She has just recently moved here and Jon hasn’t got to say anything to her other than a quick greeting. And now it seems like their first proper encounter is to be in his underwear. He manages to say something very intelligent along the lines of, “Uh.”

Gilly giggles. “Hi Jon.”

Jon feels his face reddening. “Hey Gilly.” He nods stiffly towards Val. “Hey Val.”

Val smirks. “Is this one of the cute single guys you were telling me about?”

"No, the cute singles are Grenn and Pyp. Jon is going out with Ygritte." Gilly explains absently thumbing through the letters addressed to her flat. "Ooh look. A letter from Sam’s father. That can’t be good."

Val looks rather surprised. “Isn't Ygritte the terrifying red head who cornered me yesterday in a so called attempt to welcome me to the building?”

"And threatened you with a four foot branch of a tree?" Gilly questions.

"I believe so," Val replies.

"That would be the one," Gilly admits.

Jon isn’t surprised. That is typical Ygritte behaviour. He gathers his mail and begins to make his way back upstairs, but not before hearing the girls' next exchange. "She’s pretty cute. I’d probably hit it if she was single." Val muses aloud. Jon makes a mental note to confirm to his friend Alys, who is somehow gayer than Jon’s siblings, that yes, the cute new chick is totally into girls.

When he gets back to his flat Ygritte is awake, and flipping through the television channels. "There’s nothing good on," she complains as she eats cereal out of the box, evidently not bothering with milk unlike most people. Jon sits down beside her.

“Hey, Charlie And The Chocolate Factory. I used to love that!” Jon exclaims, remembering when he had watched it with his siblings years ago. For the weeks that followed, Sansahad been tormented with dreams about getting sucked up a chocolate tube, much to Arya's amusement.

"That’s the rubbish Tim Burton remake. You know nothing Jon Snow."

Jon laughs and lunges for the cereal box. He playfully tackles her despite her protests. Soon they’re both a giggling mess on the sofa, cereal scattered around them as Johnny Depp grins at them from the television screen. Ygritte wins their mock-wrestle (as always) and is currently pinning Jon onto the sofa, with her trademark smirk.

"You’ve already made an impression on the new girl," Jon tells her breathlessly. "She thinks you’re both terrifying and cute."

Ygritte nods approvingly. “Smart girl.”

Jon grins. “You wouldn’t plan to ever leave me for said smart girl?”

Ygritte glares at him. “I’m not leaving you. You’re mine and I’m yours. You know nothing Jon Snow.”

He grabs her by the face and pulls it towards his and kisses her deeply, pulling a hand through her wide curls. "I know that I love you," he says into the kiss and feels Ygritte smirk against his mouth.

 

 

3\. Robb

Robb hates sleeping in. He feels like he’s wasting half the day by doing so. He’s always been an “up and at ‘em” type of person. He tries to sneak out of bed at seven, trying not to make a scrape of noise. As usual, his plan to escape is thwarted.

"Stay," Theon mutters against him. And who the hell is Robb to refuse such a request? Especially when his boyfriend is all messy curls and cuddles. So he stays under the covers with Theon for another half an hour, until he’s decided that it would be a crime to stay in bed any longer.

"Robb!" Theon protests as Robb nudges him away.

"C'mon Theon," Robb coaxes. "Busy day, remember?"

Theon groans, eyes still shut. “Oh, don’t tell me your parents have arranged another family dinner that I’m obliged to go to.”

Robb laughs. “Worse I’m afraid. It’s your sister’s birthday dinner today, remember?”

Theon’s eyes fly open. “Oh shit.” He’s out of bed quicker than anything, muttering to himself about punctuality. Robb laughs at Theon’s haste. It’s kind to cute to be honest.

“Calm down Theon. It’s not even eight and the meal isn't until seven this evening.”

Theon sighs. “Yeah, I know. It’s just this’ll be the first family function I've been to since, well, you know.”

Robb does know. Robb knows how hard Balon Greyjoy took it when he found out his only living son was abandoning the family business to go to college. Or more specifically, to go to college with a boy. It had now been a year since they had left college and got their own jobs and flats, and the first year since Theon had left that he was invited to a family event. The invitation had even included a plus one. He pulls Theon in for a hug and allows Theon to bury his head in Robb’s still bare chest. "Hey, it’s going to be okay. You have nothing to hide from your dad. You’ve got a great job, a nice flat, good friends, the lot. And you’ve got me."

"Now and always?" Theon mumbles into Robb’s skin.

"Now and always," Robb confirms. They stay in that position for a few blissful minutes, until Theon, somewhat unwillingly, pulls away. "I still need to get her a present," he says. "I don’t even know what kind of present to get for someone like Asha. Is an axe a suitable birthday present?"

Robb thinks back to one particularly memorable Christmas when Jon gifted Arya with a sword, much to Catelyn and Ned’s dismay. “I don’t think it’ll go down too well with your parents,” he admits. “But I guess it’s the thought that counts.”

Theon puts his head in his hands. “I’m so screwed for this dinner. I feel like I barely know any of them. How am I going to choose a present?”

"Hey, c’mon," Robb says. "Let’s focus on getting ready to go shopping first. You need to take a shower."

"Seems like unnecessary effort," Theon says.

"I was thinking about taking a shower together," Robb offers slyly, knowing that this is a sure way to get Theon into the shower.

Theon perks up instantly. “You know what Robb? You’re absolutely right. Showers are great. I love showers.”

He practically pulls Robb to the bathroom, undressing both himself and Robb as they go.

Since they’re both only wearing boxers it’s only a matter of time before they’re both under the blasting hot water, grinning like teenagers. Robb lets out a sign of sheer bliss. This, he thinks as he kisses Theon softly, is the perfect way to start the morning, regardless of what the rest of the day holds for them.

 

 

4\. Rickon

Rickon’s alarm goes off at promptly six o clock, causing Shaggy Dog to start barking. Rickon slams the alarm clock immediately and hushes Shaggy Dog, not wanting to alert his parents to wakefulness. He hates being the main focus of their attention, as he so often is nowadays. This is mainly because Robb has a flat of his own, Sansa is at college, Arya spends most of her time staying with one of her friends and Bran is constantly staying at his boyfriend’s house. As it is, Rickon feels somewhat abandoned by his siblings.

He takes a quick shower and gets dressed deftly. He’s almost out the door after a quick bite to eat when he’s caught. "Early, isn’t it?" Catelyn’s voice says.

Rickon blushes and says nothing.

"You know," his mother continues. "If you plan to sneak out so much, you might want to consider not sleeping in the same room as a dog that barks loudly enough to wake the dead."

Rickon inwardly curses his stupid dog. “I just wanted to go for a run. That’s all!” he protests, gesturing towards his running gear.

His mother smiles. “Is that so?”

"Yes!"

Catelyn laughs. “Okay then. Don’t go too far and be back by eleven.”

Rickon promises he’ll stay at the running track on the other side of the block and that he’ll be home by eleven. That’s the least he can do after lying to his mother. Well. He’s not really lying. He is going for a run. He just purposely evaded certain truths. Like the fact that Shireen Baratheon goes to the running track at seven every morning. When he arrives, she’s already there, and by the looks of it, has already ran several laps, her light brown hair sticking to her forehead.

"Hey," she greets him.

"Hi," he says back shyly. He cringes at his own awkwardness. It’s a good thing Arya can’t see him now, or the teasing would be merciless.

They don’t speak for the next ten minutes and run laps in silence. But Rickon likes it. They keep up a steady pace and it’s a comfortable silence, broken only by the thump of their feet and heavy breathing.

Rickon feels a pain coming on at around his sixteenth lap and stops his running to bend down, groaning slightly.

Shireen laughs. “Oh come on. Don’t tell me you’re sore already?”

Rickon collapses onto the group, sweat clinging to his skin. "I’ve gotten better than I used to be," he points out. It’s true. The first time he came here, he collapsed after a mere five laps.

Shireen laughs and offers him some water. He accepts it gratefully, cursing his own stupidity to get waylaid by his mother and forget to bring his own water.

“Why’d you start anyway?” she asks softly.

Rickon blushes. “I, uh, I just wanted to get into shape I guess That’s all. No other particular reason. What kind of other reason would there be anyway?”

"Oh," Shireen says. "I thought it was because … well never mind. Here, I’m going to run a couple more laps then head home. You can keep the water bottle."

Rickon wants to punch himself. “Shireen,” he calls before she starts her sprints.

"Yeah?" As she turns to face him, it strikes Rickon how beautiful she is. To many, her facial disfigurement would be considered hideous, but Rickon can’t help but think it highlights how beautiful she really is.

"Dyawannacatchamoviesotime?"

"I’m sorry?" Rickon takes a deep breath and metally prepares himself. “Do you want to catch a movie sometime? With me?”

Shireen blushes. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be really nice.” Rickon can feel the shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

"On one condition," Shireen says smugly. "If you manage to run another five laps."

And Rickon still isn’t fully recovered from his previous laps but he’s filled with a source of newly found energy that buzzes throughout. "Sure," he says, springing to his feet. "Bet you I’ll win." He doesn’t win. But when he sees Shireen smile, and when she gives him a closer hug than usual, it doesn’t even matter.

 

 

5\. Bran

Bran’s legs are always at their worst in the mornings. He sighs feeling the familiar stiffness, and begins his daily breathing exercises.

"How does breathing help my legs?" Bran had asked Doctor Osha once.

Osha had replied, “How do your legs help you? One day you’ll be just a memory in the hearts of those you leave behind until we reach a point when the memory of you fades. And in those days, will your legs help you?”

Bran had decided not to question her following that.

Now he breathes deeply, in and out, inhaling and exhaling. Holding his breaths for the right amount of time before letting the air leave his system slowly. He always prefers to get up in the early morning, his exercises are much more enjoyable at the break of dawn. He gets out of bed slowly, taking care not to wake Jojen.

He loves staying here, at the Reeds’ house. Jojen is one year older than Bran and in his first year of college. Meera is six years her brother’s elder and currently teaches English at Bran’s school. For the first few weeks after he started going out with Jojen, Bran found it impossible to look his English teacher in the eye. Now, things have gotten considerably easier with time, and he’s come to terms with the fact that he regularly stays over in his English teacher’s house to be with his boyfriend. Jojen and Meera live alone, following their parents’ deaths. The two of them get along surprisingly well for siblings. Bran shudders to think as to what would happen if he shared a house with all his siblings. It would really just be a matter of time before Arya was up in court for murdering one of them. (Admittedly Arya already had a previous conviction for attacking Sansa’s dick of an ex-boyfriend, Joffrey, and since then, the younger Stark girl had made sure her escapades wouldn’t be found out by the police.)

Bran stretches out his joints and make sure his splint is secure before he starts his brisk ten minute walk. There is a forest behind the Reeds’ place ideal for walking in. Bran makes a mental note to bring his dog, Summer, here some day. He had been told at first that he would never walk again after his accident. But with a few decent doctors like Doctor Luwin and Doctor Osha (who is great despite her oddities), and the right treatment, Bran’s disability is just a nuisance, rather than a life altering horror. It’s amazing what modern medicine can do.

When he comes back into the house, Jojen is already up and watching morning cartoons. His hair is tousled and eyes bleary, but he looks so idiotically adorable than Bran is met with a sudden urge to kiss him before Jojen even gets a chance to say good morning.

Jojen looks dazed. “Well hello to you too.”

Bran laughs and nudges him so they can curl up on the sofa together. Jojen turns on his Xbox (well technically it’s Meera’s Xbox, but she’s generous enough to share with her little brother, - unlike a certain other infamous sister with the initials of A.S). Bran enjoys Meera’s absence immensely, since it makes him the best player in the room,’and he kicks Jojen’s ass at Black Ops twelve times consecutively. Plus it does mean he gets to do certain things he wouldn’t do in Meera’s presence. He likes her, he really does, but there’s no way he’d be able to rest his head in Jojen’s lap if she was here.

At some point they abandon the Xbox to simply sit together in silence, enjoying each other’s company. Jojen absently plays with Bran’s hair (which he’s been meaning to get cut for ages, but having Jojen run his fingers through it feels so perfect than Bran is content not to cut it at any time in the foreseeable future).

"I love you," Bran hears himself say, overwhelmed by the perfectness of the situation. Jojen smiles.

“I love you too.”

 

 

+1 Arya

"Arya!" Arya is still half asleep, but nonetheless she can aim a pretty hefty punch. Unluckily, her fist hits air and her ever so fortunate victim just laughs.

"C’mon Arya," the same voice wheedles. "It’s a beautiful day, time to rise and shine!"

This time Arya’s fist comes into contact with an annoyingly perfect chest. However, her attack is met with laughter and she knows she’s too scrawny to have a hope in hell of properly hurting Gendry. So she resorts to telling him to fuck off, before nestling under the covers.

He leans down to plant a kiss on her forehead, and while Arya is sorely tempted to swat him away, she resorts to pulling him down on top of her. Scrawny though she may be, she had the element if surprise and Gendry topples into the bed. Satisfied, she wraps an arm around his strong build, clinging tightly. He mutters in annoyance, but nonetheless wraps his own ridiculously muscular arms around her. Arya likes this, likes this blissful state that isn’t wakefulness nor being asleep. She likes how her brain is turned off, but still is able to register the feeling of Gendry beside her, the rise and fall of his chest.

This is her third time this week staying over at his place. Her third time in this week alone lying to her mother.

"You’re spending a lot of time at Jeyne’s house these days." Catelyn had remarked absently the morning before, and Arya had tensed, afraid her mother would realise that Arya doesn’t even have any female friends, let alone one called Jeyne. But her mother didn't press the subject, and Arya had breathed a sigh of relief, and continued to stay over at ‘Jeyne’s house’.

It wasn’t like her and Gendry did anything bad. They mostly just played poker with Hot Pie and the others, before ordering fast food and curling up to watch a film together. Alright, and they occasionally have (really great) sex, but Arya is seventeen, she’s knows what she’s doing, and she wants it. And they always use protection, so who’s to judge?

Arya has considered introducing Gendry to her family numerous times. She isn’t ashamed of him, not at all, but she doesn’t know how her family would react. Gendry isn’t well-off like Margaery Tyrell, his family isn’t a friend of the family like Jojen Reed’s. Gendry didn’t grow up near the Starks like Theon Greyjoy, and Arya didn’t meet him on a respectable skiing trip up North, like how Jon met Ygritte. (The story of how Gendry and Arya did meet involves several drug gangs, a fancy dress part and an escaped bull. But that’s a completely different story.)

So Arya doesn’t mention him, she takes care to hide the fact that she may be in love with a city orphan who is twenty years old and works as a mechanic. And it sucks, it really sucks, that she has to keep him hidden.

But for now she contains herself with simply being with him, and allowing herself to doze off with his arms encasing her. They stay like that well into the afternoon, but as far as Arya is concerned, it’s a morning well spent.

 

/ End /


End file.
